Expanding Horizons

At the hospital, Joy knocked on the door and poked her head in. "Hey, Betty!"

"Hey, Joy!" The older woman's face lit up in a smile and she gestured for her to come in. "How are you? How's my boy Rufus?"

"Fine, fine," Joy said and gave Betty the box of chocolates she had bought on the way. "I hope you don't mind that it's a Valentine's box. They just looked so yummy."

"These are my favorites, too!" Betty said and happily unwrapped the box. "Thank you!"

They sat and munched on the chocolate, discussed the weather and work and Betty's recovery. After a while, Joy wondered how to ask why she had been summoned, but didn't know how to approach the subject. Betty seemed to understand without saying: she had a habit of being almost telepathic to what Joy was thinking, but in the most comfortable way.

"Okay, ahem," Betty said with a wide grin. It looked like she was blushing lightly. "About the reason I asked you to come."

She paused and looked at Joy, who nodded with an encouraging smile. Betty coughed.

"I... well. This is even more awkward than I thought it would be."

Betty looked out the window, then drew a deep breath and her grin grew even wider. "Remember when I said I had additional income? Meaning I don't depend only on our sorry excuse for a salary for sustenance? Well, my other profession is... writing smut."

Joy cocked her head. Betty said it like she should know what it meant. "Smut?"

"Porn. Erotic stories."

"Ah!"

Betty grinned and watched Joy struggle with the idea. Betty was a small, maybe sixty-ish woman with sharp bird-like eyes and long hair she kept in a bun. Joy had trouble trying to associate this woman with any sort of pornography. She became aware of the expressions on her face, changing from disbelief to curiosity, and fought to get them under control.

"And... uh... you're telling me, because..."

"Because I want to ask you for a favor. As always, you are perfectly entitled to decline. I don't want to push you into anything you're not comfortable with. But, you see, there's this writing competition on this erotica site that I was planning to participate in. I have the story ready, it's on my computer. But, since I'm unexpectedly stuck in here, I can't post it myself."

Joy's mind was spinning. "So... you want me to..."

"I'd like you to post it for me. And if it's not too uncomfortable, I would appreciate you proofreading it first. I had meant to polish it before publishing. But if you feel appalled by the idea, I'd appreciate it even if you just posted it as is. The site is one of my most reliable marketing channels, and this is my favorite competition of all the annual ones: the Valentine's Day competition."

Joy left the hospital with her head spinning. In her purse she had a note with Betty's username and password for her computer and the erotica site, and instructions on which file held the story and how to post it. She was astonished but increasingly curious. Betty's hobby, or second profession as she called it, could not have been more of a surprise. Joy never would have guessed this little old lady from her office was a writer of any kind, and she had no idea what to expect. She had heard of erotic literature, of course, but she had only a vague idea of what it might encompass.

After dinner, Joy had no reason to stall. She turned on Betty's computer and took out the note. She typed the website's address, and looked at it dubiously for a moment. Every instinct told her that this was a wicked website and she should stay well away, lest the computer be flooded with viruses and spyware. But it was Betty's computer, not hers, and according to Betty, she had been using it for a long time, so after a brief internal struggle she pressed enter.

Joy spent a long time examining Betty's profile, her published stories and the site in general. She didn't know what to make of it. Many of the categories seemed positively alien to her, and she became aware of all the variety in human sexuality she had never really thought of. Betty had stories in multiple categories, and she eyed the list critically.

Okay then. She had been asked to do a job, and a job she would do. Proofreading was certainly something she was capable of. She was an avid reader and had to proofread and edit texts in her work. She searched for the document containing Betty's upcoming contest entry and set to work.

Joy was quickly enthralled with the story. Betty was a good writer, and her characters came alive from the first sentences. The story wasn't very long, and by the end of it Joy realized two things. One, she'd been so captivated she had forgotten to actually proofread. Two, she was painfully aroused. She squirmed on the chair, flustered, and felt her sex throb. She did masturbate regularly, of course she did, but she couldn't remember when she'd last been so turned on.

She felt mildly uncomfortable thinking it was Betty's story that had her so worked up, but in her arousal it was easy to overlook who had written it and just focus on the story. She looked at the screen, glanced at the bedroom door, then back at the screen. When was the contest deadline again? With trembling fingers, she surfed the website to the contest announcement. Today? Oh, damn. She'd better post the story before taking care of herself.

She huffed and scrolled to the beginning of the document, berating herself to stay in line this time. She concentrated with all her might, trying to view the text as a collection of random sentences instead of a story--an extremely arousing story--and stilled her body every time she found it rocking to introduce some stimulus to her pulsing pussy.

She made a few minor corrections, not that they were strictly necessary but because she wanted to show she'd done it, and copied the text into the submission form. She typed the caption, blurb and note to the editor per Betty's instructions, and added the tags she had instructed. She hovered over the submit button, and pressing it felt like a huge accomplishment. The story moved from draft to pending, and she smiled. She'd done it!

She looked over to where Rufus lay sleeping, and wondered if she could masturbate where she was, reading the site. It felt a little uncomfortable with the dog in the room, and even more uncomfortable sitting upright in the chair. Could she read the site with her phone? It hadn't looked very sleazy or malicious on the computer, and Betty did use it regularly...

A few minutes later Joy lay on Betty's bed, chest heaving after a massive orgasm. She was awed by her arousal. She hadn't felt this stimulated in a long, long time. Filled with curiosity, she continued checking out the list of Betty's stories.

--#--#--#--#--

The following days saw Joy in a continuing daze of sexual arousal. She was so enamored with this new world she'd discovered she even passed on her regular church meeting, something she hadn't done for as long as she could remember. She called Betty to tell her she'd posted the story, and then again when it had been published. Betty said she could check her profile with her phone, and Joy felt embarrassed for not having understood that. Or would have, if she wasn't constantly on a happy hormonal cloud.

Leroy commented on Joy's glowing appearance, curiously but not malignantly. He seemed restless, and was getting even more flirty now that Joy was friendlier with him. Joy wondered idly what it would be like to make love with him.

Joy was astonished by this line of thinking. She wasn't one for casual sex, not for lack of interest but for lack of daring. She'd had a few relationships with equally solemn and withdrawn young men, and it had always taken months to progress from hand holding to anything more. Now she was half seriously contemplating returning her temporary neighbor's flirting, and not only that, but having actual casual sex with him, if he was willing. He was going away, and even if he wasn't, he wasn't Joy's type. He was way too irresponsible and reckless for Joy's liking. And, yes, lacked ambition.

Joy spent her evenings and nights reading erotic stories. First Betty's, then other authors. She poked in different categories and found some that were mildly interesting, and some which made her back straight out again. She found a few authors that really got her going, and a few that made her feel filthy to belong in the same species with them. She wondered if she could write a story like that herself.

On her next visit, Joy asked Betty about her alternate career. Betty smiled and explained the sources of her income, her Patreon and the e-books she'd published, and made Joy understand how much work it all was.

"But I was once where you are," Betty said. "I was young and had to start from scratch. I didn't do all this overnight. And making money is not the only point in writing. Or reading, as I think you have discovered."

Joy blushed bright red. Betty laughed and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Oh, honey, don't be a prude. I have to say, I was a bit hesitant to ask you, but then I thought we're both adults here. Sex is a natural part of life."

--#--#--#--#--

On Saturday the doorbell rang. Joy was startled. She wasn't expecting anyone. Betty hadn't mentioned any visits, and if it would be the plumber or someone, they wouldn't come on Saturday evening, would they?

She opened the door cautiously, then opened it wide when she saw it was Leroy. He offered her a bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. He had his trademark wide smile, displaying his flawless row of white teeth and the charming gap between the top front teeth.

"Leroy!"

"Happy Valentine's Day!"

Leroy offered her the flowers and the chocolate again, and puzzled, she accepted.

"What are you doing here?"

Leroy rolled his eyes but in a friendly way. "Bringing you gifts, of course."

"But why?"

"...Because it's almost Valentine's Day? Well, actually, I heard that Betty is coming back home, and I figured it means you're leaving, and I... just..."

Leroy seemed flustered, and Joy wondered why. She usually felt so uncomfortable when they met, and now, to her amazement, things seemed to have reversed.

"How did you hear Betty is coming home?"

"I went to visit her."

"You visited Betty?"

Joy couldn't say why this seemed so unlikely. Leroy shrugged. "I happen to like her. And it's not like I have loads of other commitments."

Leroy wasn't working, and as far as Joy could tell he didn't do much except helping out his auntie and sitting outside smoking dope. Leroy shifted from one foot to another and said, "Well.. I better get going, then."

"Wait," Joy said when he started to turn. "Would you... would you care to come in for a drink?"

Leroy's smile brightened, and he nodded. When Joy opened the inner door of the apartment, Rufus seemed to also think this was the greatest idea ever. He swirled around Leroy, whining excitedly, until Leroy kneeled down to properly cuddle him.

"I don't know if I have anything to drink though," Joy said. "Let me check."

Leroy followed her into the kitchen. "I don't mind. I have a few joints."

"So surprising," Joy said and rolled her eyes at him. He laughed.

Joy found a few beers and a bottle of white wine in Betty's fridge. They opened the beer and wandered into the living room. Leroy sat on the sofa and looked around. He looked smaller than usual, now that he didn't have his bulky coat on, and a little lost. He eyed the paintings on the walls and sipped his beer. Joy put on music and sat next to him, and for a while they sat in silence.

Joy wasn't sure why she had invited him in. It wasn't like her at all to act upon a whim, and now she wasn't sure what to do next. She felt uncertainty and awkwardness welling inside her, and surprisingly, an equal amount of daring and recklessness. She sipped her beer to buy some thinking time.

"I'll go back home on Monday," Joy said. "And you'll leave for your uncle's farm... when was it again?"

"In five weeks," Leroy said. His shoulders slumped.

"But you don't want to go?"

"I don't mind, really," Leroy said, but didn't sound enthusiastic. "I mean, I've been there once before. I like the animals, and I don't mind the farm work. And unca Jerome taught me to play the guitar last time I was there. And I hear he's even got a piano now. It's not that."

He flexed his arm and gave Joy a feeble grin. "And at least shoveling shit will give me some bulk, eh?"

His limbs were lean and strong, but he wasn't the most muscular of men. Joy smiled and touched his arm, as if measuring his bicep.

"What is it, then?"

"Just life, I guess," he said. "I need to grow up, right? Figure out what I want to do. I can't just float around. I'll end up in prison, or then just piss poor and useless. I need to make something of myself. And I do want that, but it's just..."

"Aren't you a little young to have a midlife crisis?"

Leroy barked a laugh and they cheered with their bottles. For a while they sat in silence. Joy looked at Leroy's profile, and impulsively she made up her mind. She wasn't one for impulsive decisions, but every once in a while she surprised herself.

"So, you said you had a joint?"

Leroy looked at her, astonished. "You want to smoke?"

"Yeah, is that so surprising?"

"I never... have you ever smoked before? It's pretty good stuff."

"Do I look like I was born yesterday? I'm older than you, if I recall correctly."

Leroy's eyebrows didn't lower until they were in the small balcony off the stairwell, and Joy had taken the first puff and was holding it in. He reached for the joint and took a drag, and they stood, letting the leafy sweet smoke linger around them. Joy grinned. She had smoked some when she was studying, but it was a long time ago. She felt younger and wilder when she let the smoke fill her lungs.

"Oh, I've missed this," she said, watching how the tendrils of smoke billowed from her mouth.

"Yeah? I would've offered sooner, if I knew," Leroy said, looking at the joint when he handed it back over.

"You certainly seem to have supplies."

"Yeah... honestly, I kinda hate it."

"Hate it? Well I'll finish this up then, so you don't have to," Joy said, and Leroy laughed.

She put out the joint and stuffed it into the small glass jar some neighbors used for butts, and they went back inside. Rufus greeted them like he hadn't seen them in ages, and they both laughed. The weed was taking effect, and Joy felt happy and bubbly, a feeling she seldom had felt in her life.

"So why do you hate it? You certainly do it enough," she asked, rummaging in the fridge for more beer.

Leroy huffed. "Well... my dad always said only useless good-for-nothings smoke dope. His brother was dealing, and he always lectured me and my brothers to stay on the straight and narrow."

"Yeah?" Joy offered him a bottle and they went back to the living room. "Well, my parents would have a fit if they knew I've even seen a joint in my life. They are very strict, and they are convinced all drugs are the same, and they all are of Satan."

Leroy's smile was a bit tight. "Of course," he said, "straight and narrow didn't work so well for my dad. He died in a workplace accident when I was ten, his boss had skimped on the safety to cut corners. So then it was just my mom and us boys."

"Oh," Joy said slowly. "So then..."

"So then mom worked two jobs and we were pretty much on our own, me and my brothers," Leroy said. "And so we kinda navigated to the other family business, if you know what I mean."

"Mmh," Joy said and sniffed the lingering scent in her hair. "We don't have a family business, thank god. I'd wither completely if I had to spend any more time with my parents."

"Yeah? What's wrong with them?"

"Comparing family dysfunctions, are we? Nothing much. No drinking, no drugs, no abuse, not even a divorce. But also lots of rules, lots of judgment, lots of chores, no joy whatsoever."

Joy snorted so that she got beer in her nose and had to splutter for a moment. Normally she would've been devastated by such disgrace, but the weed had loosened her up, and she just laughed so heartily she had to wipe her eyes. "Can you imagine calling your child Joy and then making her life as joyless as possible?"

"Or calling your kid Leroy and then fucking him over royally?"

They laughed together, and it felt really good. Joy felt all tingly. Leroy had relaxed, his stance was more open and at ease, and he rapped his fingers on his thigh in rhythm with the music.

"Wanna dance?"

Leroy looked at her and his eyebrows shot up again. "Um... sure?"

Joy grinned and got up, pulling him along. They danced and laughed. The combination of weed and beer helped Joy let go, and she could focus on the music and watching Leroy without being too self conscious. She had a sense of rhythm and as a small girl she had liked dancing, but then of course her parents had made her stop taking lessons at adolescence, fearing it was too sinful. Leroy was all graceful fluid swing, and something in the way his hips moved made Joy tingle all the more. Rufus goofed along with them, swirling at their feet, grinning a wide canine grin and wagging his tail joyfully.

Joy swirled around, spotting their reflection on the window. The scene looked magical, like it was a window to another world, to some strange family's living room. It looked happy--happy, cozy, and inviting, the two of them dancing with the dog. She turned back towards Leroy, who smiled at her warmly, just as the song faded and the radio DJ announced it was time for smooching music. The first slow bars passed without either of them moving. Leroy's eyebrows were raised again, and Joy could feel her chest heaving. She felt strongly how she was on the verge of something. She searched her soul for the anxiousness and hesitation that should've been there but found only giddiness.

Joy stepped closer. Leroy opened his arms, and as if in a dream she stepped to him. Leroy's hands found their place on her hips, hers caressed his shoulders and neck, delighting on the foreign feeling of his dreadlocks against her skin. They held eye contact. Joy gasped when Leroy's magical fluid hips started their slow sway, sweeping her along. She pressed closer without consciously deciding to.

"I have to tell you something," she whispered.

Leroy cocked his head closer. Their temples touched, and Joy breathed in his scent. It was enticing, manly and totally unlike her own, though the hint of weed in his hair was probably the same. Their bodies pressed together, Joy could feel his warmth radiating through his clothes.

"Smoking dope makes me horny," she whispered into his ear.

He chuckled. Joy was so close she could feel the laughter starting in his stomach. He tried not to laugh, but it was impossible, and soon they were giggling and clinging to each other.

"So romantic!" Leroy said, eyes twinkling.

"I know, I'm sorry," Joy said and smiled. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing. I've never done anything like this."

"Like what?" Leroy asked as they started dancing again. "Been with a black guy? Is this what this is?"

"No, god, well yeah, I mean I haven't. But that's not... that's..."

Leroy looked at her evaluatively. Joy shrank. There was something so cynical and off putting in his expression. Then he smiled and it passed. "You wouldn't be the first."

"No, really, I don't... that's not what I meant. I just never had casual sex before. I mean, I was always in a relationship before, I have had sex before, and I don't mean I assume we would, I just... I... oh god. Can you just stop me before I put the other foot in my mouth too?"

Leroy did. He kissed her, and the world stopped.

His lips were soft and tentative. A powerful thrill traveled up Joy's spine, making her shiver and press closer. Instinctively she parted her lips, and got another thrill when their tongues met. She was overcome with desire, and briefly she was horrified and intrigued by it. Part of her wanted to pull back and reflect on it, but a larger part of her pushed on and deepened the kiss.